In a Fix (16 page)

“And I sometimes think you need to use some shampoo,” Per answered him.

Huh? What kind of comeback was that? Maybe it was a Swedish thing.

My door opened and Nils filled it. His hair looked clean enough to me. “Ah, you are awake.”

I bit back a smart-ass comment and nodded. “Where’s Trey? You said you’d take me to him.”

“And so we shall. Later.” He set his jaw, and I knew it was the end of that topic for the moment. In a more solicitous vein, he added, “Have you been up yet?”

“If that’s your way of asking if I need to pee, the answer is yes. Your buddy didn’t seem inclined to let me off my leash.” I jingled my special bracelet.

He took a key from his pocket and freed me. “I’ll show you to the toilet. I’m afraid we don’t have indoor plumbing here in the cottage.”

“Yeah, well, I’m dressed for the olden days, so lead me to it. I’m sure I’ll manage. By the way, what does ‘
den lilla hunden
’ mean?”

“The little dog. Why?” He looked at me curiously.

Pretty much what I’d expected. “No reason,” I said.

I put my shoes back on, hoping Nils would assume I’d kicked them off when I woke up. Guess he did, since he didn’t comment on it. I wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of spending more time in the outhouse—especially now that it was even darker outside, and God only knew what kind of creepy-crawlies liked to hang out there in the murk.

Once outside I gestured toward the farmhouse. “How about there? Any chance they have a working toilet?” If I could get a look inside, maybe figure out where a phone was, I could sneak back later and call for help.

“Sorry. We only have access to the cottage. The farmhouse is locked.”

“And, heavens, we couldn’t break in, could we? Why, that would be illegal,” I said, widening my eyes. He acknowledged the irony with a tight smile, and led me to the crude facilities, where I went through the charade while he waited nearby. One would almost think he didn’t trust me. Nothing crawled up my legs, as far as I could feel, and I removed myself from the fumes as quickly as seemed reasonable.

I looked around after I got out, pretending it was all new to me, and noted there was still only the one car. Wherever Nils had been, he hadn’t returned with a vehicle.

“Hey, is that a Mini?” I asked, trying to sound excited in a rich girl way. “They are so cute. I wanted to get one, but my parents got me a stuffy old Mercedes instead. No fun at all.”

“Poor you,” Nils said, clearly amused.

“Seriously, may I look at it?”

“Why would you want to? Surely you’ve seen one before.” He eyed me with something hinting at suspicion. Time for a wistful sigh.

“Well, it’s something to do to stay outside a little longer, isn’t it? I’m not really looking forward to being chained up again.” That much was true.

He cocked his head. Shrugged. “All right. But only for a moment.” He took my hand and led me toward the car.

“Afraid I’m going to make a break for it?” I said.

“No. You are smart enough not to do that. But the ground is uneven here, and I wouldn’t want you to trip and fall.”

Yeah, right. Well, he needn’t worry. I wouldn’t be trying to run right under his nose. I just wanted to get a look inside the Mini to see if maybe, just maybe, Per had left the keys in the ignition. I knew how to hot-wire a car—Billy showed me when we were in high school—but that didn’t work well with the newer models, and I didn’t want to waste time searching the cottage for the keys later if I didn’t have to.

I figured there was a good chance all three musketeers would sleep tonight without one of them standing guard, since they would think I was stuck in the cuffs. If I could get away with the only available car, they wouldn’t be able to catch me. It wasn’t like the fertilizer truck could keep up with a fine piece of German engineering like the Mini. And so what if I got lost? I’d reach someplace civilized eventually, and figure out how to contact help then.

Nils extended a hand toward the dark green import as we neared it. “Look—here is your dream car. Do you really think it would satisfy a woman of your refined tastes?” It looked ridiculously small next to him when he stopped beside it, almost like a toy.

“Oh, my tastes tend to be quite simple,” I said, running my free hand over the white car top, and bending over to look inside. There was still enough light to see the keys hanging in the ignition.
Yes!
I thought. Only maybe I kind of thought it out loud. Oops.

Nils brought his head down to my level to see what had me so excited.

“Um,
yes
, look at that—leather seats!” I gushed. “See? Good things come in small packages.”

“I can see that,” he said, only he was looking at me and not the car.
Yikes!
He wasn’t getting ideas, was he?

Duh. What man wouldn’t be getting ideas about Mina?
Improvise, Ciel. Maybe you can use this.

I straightened up and moved away from the car, taking Nils with me, since he still had hold of my hand. Darned if I didn’t slip on a loose stone and stumble up against the big Swede, and heck if I didn’t accidentally brush my breasts up along the side of his rib cage as I righted myself. His swift intake of breath told me if he
had
noticed the key, it shouldn’t be in his mind long enough to make a lasting impression. Mission accomplished.

“I’m sorry—I guess you were right about the ground. I’m not usually so clumsy.”

His hand tightened on mine. I looked away, hiding my victory smile. “I, um, guess we should go back in now,” I said.

“In a moment.” Nils’s voice was soft. Inviting.

I tried my best to avoid meeting his eyes, but he caught my glance when I peeked up at him, and pulled me closer. Geez. He was going to kiss me.

Should I let him? Would that make him more kindly disposed to help me? I didn’t want to—oh, hell, who was I kidding? A tiny part of me (the unthinking, stupid part) kind of did want to. I was curious. Hello? Viking hunk. What normal, heterosexual woman
wouldn’t
be curious? But, I decided, Mina wouldn’t want him to—she would be too worried about Trey to even think of it—and I had to be Mina. So I pulled away.

Right after the first minute or so.

I
know
. It was wrong. I mean, here I was making loose with somebody else’s morals. Honestly, I was just going to take a little sample, and then fly into a mortally offended routine, but you know how it is when you have one itty-bitty bite of Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia, with the best intentions not to have any more than that, and before you know it the whole pint is gone? Yeah, it was kind of like that. The thing of it was, Nils was a pretty good kisser, which sort of took me by surprise. Could kidnappers be good kissers?

And then I felt queasy—the ice cream analogy holding up only too well—because here I was betraying Pete’s memory. I mean, even if Nils hadn’t been the shooter, he was still an accomplice. But I could hardly claim to be offended now. Not when I’d let it go on for so long. So I kept it simple. “I shouldn’t have let you do that.”

He smiled, not looking like a killer at all. “I’m glad you did.”

I shook myself.
Mina. Damn it, remember who you are!
“Just don’t do it again. I’m practically engaged!”

“So?”

“What do you mean,
so
? Trey is the man I love, and for all I know you’ve killed him. I saw one of you kill Pete, and you’re probably going to kill me, too, for God’s sake!” I balled up a fist and slammed it against his chest.

He pulled me back to him, but only to wipe away a few stray tears sliding down my cheeks.
Gawd
. Was I actually crying? Damn aura leeching—Mina must be a crier. How embarrassing. But at least it seemed to be gaining me some sympathy. That couldn’t hurt, could it?

“First of all, who is this Pete? The man on the dock?”

I nodded, more tears springing forth. I’d really liked Pete.

“It is unfortunate he was in the way,” he said, voice tight. Was that regret I heard in his tone? I wanted to think so, but I couldn’t be sure. “But Trey is not dead. And I am not going to kill you.”

“Ha. You won’t have to—Per would rather do that himself,” I countered.

“Per will not kill you. I promise.” Then he added, almost as an afterthought, “If you cooperate with us.” I shivered, afraid once more. Every time I felt myself start to trust this guy, he said something to snap me out of it. Maybe he was just an extremely courteous sociopath.

“What about the other guy? He might. He looks pretty shifty.”

“Not him either.”

“Who is he, anyway, and why is he working with a bunch of Swedes?”

“That I cannot tell you. Now, perhaps we really should go back in. Per is watching from the window.”

I pushed away from Nils and swung my head toward the house. “Oh, shit! Did he see? Was he watching?”

“What does it matter? It isn’t his business.”

“He’ll think…” I stopped and swallowed, feeling shame I knew was unreasonable. While I was perfectly willing to use Mina’s charms to manipulate Nils, I certainly didn’t want that asshole watching. Especially if it might lead him to think I was up for grabs.

“He will think you were trying to enlist my aid,” Nils said matter-of-factly. “It is not an uncommon tactic.”

I felt my eyes get big. Was I that transparent?

Laughter rumbled through him. He turned back to the Mini and retrieved the keys. “It wouldn’t have worked, anyway,” he said when he looked at me again.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” I said, masking my disappointment with as much innocence as I could gather.

“Distracting me with sex so I wouldn’t handcuff you tonight, and then taking off in the car after we are asleep. You don’t know where you are—you would get lost. Besides, I still would’ve handcuffed you. Sex with handcuffs can be exciting,
ja
?”

Chapter 15

Nils handcuffed me back to the bed, but didn’t attempt any funny business. I couldn’t help feeling some part of him was decent, hard as it was to reconcile that with him being buddies with someone like Per. Guess he just really didn’t like to pee sitting down.

At least he left me a pile of the latest American gossip rags, including my favorite,
World Wag Weekly
. There must be a large English readership in Sweden if he could find it here. I hoped it might help distract me, and it did. Page six especially, where an article headlined “Undercover Liz” caught my eye. Sure enough, the reporter had an exclusive with an American tourist in the Bahamas. The lady claimed she’d helped Queen Elizabeth with her shopping, and that the monarch had let it slip she would’ve had Diana killed if it had still been within the Royal Prerogative. Geez. The woman must’ve been on the phone to a reporter within minutes after Billy and I left the store. Good thing nobody really believed these stories.

An hour or two later—it’s hard to keep track in a clock-less room—I heard snores and decided to risk some recon. Morphing into Molly once again, I freed my wrist and then returned to the Mina shape that had become normal for me. I rolled as quietly as possible off the bed and crossed quickly to the dresser. Faint light filtered through the curtains—could it be dawn already? Then I remembered where I probably was. Summertime sunrise comes early in Sweden.

I opened each drawer gingerly, searching for anything blunt and heavy. Nothing but some ratty old long johns and thick woolen socks. Damn. I’d have to check the kitchen.

As before, the door cooperated. No telltale squeak gave me away. I could see three forms sprawled and sleeping, one on the sofa and two on the floor. The loudest snorer was one of the Vikings. Must be Per. Surely Nils wouldn’t make sounds like that. I eased myself out of the bedroom and tiptoed over to the kitchen.

Ah-ha!
On the stove was a cast-iron skillet. Perfect. Precisely how hard did you have to hit someone on the head to knock him out without killing him? I wasn’t sure. Guess I’d just have to bash away and hope for the best. And hit all three of them in rapid succession; otherwise, I’d risk one or two of them waking up before I was done. Couldn’t imagine any of them, not even Nils, taking kindly to this part of my escape plan.

I’d hit Per last—his snoring might cover up any sound the other two made. The Indian would be first. He was on the sofa, and farthest away from Per. Then Nils, and finally the asshole. I felt bad about hitting the first two (well, not so much Nonto—I was ambivalent about him), but I was kind of looking forward to introducing Per’s head to a cooking utensil. It would be like dessert after an unappetizing meal.

I crept closer, raising the skillet with both hands as I went. Geez, it was heavy. With this sucker, you could weight-train while you cooked.

The three of them continued to sleep soundly. Nils was on his back, head pillowed on a chair cushion, hair mussed, eyes moving rapidly beneath his eyelids, and the merest hint of a smile playing on his lips. He must be dreaming. About Mina?

I paused. He’d been polite to me. Nice, really, if you compared him to Per, and ignored the fact that he’d maybe been the one to shoot Pete.

Damn it!
I couldn’t do it. I was going to wuss out. I couldn’t bring myself to risk killing him. Shit. What kind of woman couldn’t hit a man with a frying pan? I couldn’t even carry out a fucking cliché. Disgusted with myself, I lowered my arms. Now I’d have to sneak back into my room and spend the rest of the night berating my cowardice. I
hate
berating my cowardice.

Unless …

I hadn’t planned to look for the keys until the gang was safely dispatched, but since they were so soundly asleep, I might as well try anyway. I scanned the room, searching the tops of the end tables, the dining table, and the bookshelves on my way back to the kitchen nook. I thought about putting the skillet back on the stove, but decided against it. Heavy and awkward as it was to manage, it was still the only weapon I had at hand. Holding it tightly with one hand, I used the other to push the empty grocery bags out of the way, and immediately stifled a whoop.